The Weight of Living
by Lord Zelge
Summary: AU. Arthur Kirkland is a high school teacher. Among his students, Lovino Vargas is always part of the "bottom list:" students who are failing. This annoys Arthur because Lovino was very good with his other subjects and it hurt his pride as an instructor. So he finds out the reason why his student has terrible grades with only his subject. Sometimes, oblivion is a bliss.


**THE WEIGHT OF LIVING**

Lovino watched his monitor dispassionately. For the past five hours, his eyes were glued to the bright screen. The only time he moved his eyes away was when he needed to close them because the glare from the monitor hurt. It was a grueling task to make an essay for the damned eyebrows.

The term, _eyebrows_, was what he uses to name his English _teacher_. It refers to those spiteful eyebrows on the man's forehead. The man was also very annoying; an uppity man from the UK who loved grammatical rules and sentence structures.

Lovino's mind was working full time to finish the essay which was due in an hour. Compared to his marks in math and science, his grades in English were hanging on the thread; if he cannot make his essay decent enough, he might be held back for a year just because of the damn subject.

_I don't fucking care about English! I can speak the fucking language just fine._

He wasn't boasting or anything but numbers were never his weakness. He enjoyed the technicality of math and all he had to do to pass the subject was memorize formulas and theorems and whatnots. In contrast with English were he had to know the rules of writing the damn language when he could speak it just fine.

Fifteen minutes passed by and the Italian was now panicking. He had forty-five minutes left… and he couldn't plagiarize because _shitty eyebrows, _the English teacher, reads every assignment and is very apprehensive about copy-and-paste works to the point of doing an online check for every passed work.

_First of a short introduction to the English language… yeah, that'll look good. Then the statistics of native English speakers and English-as-second-language…_

Ideas were pouring inside the mind of Lovino and this pleased him.

Ten minutes before the time, the student was able to finish his work and entered the class just on time.

_In your face eyebrows!_

By the end of the day, Lovino's face had a small smile plastered.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Hey, Arthur... you know what, I fucking hate you so much. I swear to whatever ruling entity of this damned universe that you will never find happiness!" Lovino screamed to the man in front of him. He was inches away from the edge of the building's rooftop. Just one more step, he would fall from a height of five stories and the adolescent's head plunges first to the concrete ground, Death will surely embrace him with wide arms.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Arthur Kirkland woke up in cold sweat; his breathing was very ragged.

Lately, the Englishman was having disturbing dreams about his student, the very obnoxious Lovino Vargas, about to die. It looked more like that the student was about to commit suicide. What bothered Arthur was that he barely saw the student except during his class. There was nothing beyond their teacher-student relationship. Taking a deep breath, the teacher went to his kitchen to make himself tea and calm his nerves.

The aroma of the drink always puts him at ease. While waiting for the water to boil, his eyes glanced to the wall clock. It was still four o'clock in the morning; two hours early than his usual waking time. It was difficult to return back to sleep, so the young teacher decided to go to his usual morning routine. By six o'clock, he was already prepared to go to work.

At the teacher's lounge, Arthur settled himself and scanned through the homework submissions of his students. When he got hold of the work of Lovino Vargas, he didn't proceed to the next student's submission. Instead of just skimming through the essay, he read it word for word. Contrary to his student's belief, he didn't have the leisure of reading all of their homework word for word. He would skim through it and get an initial impression then grade it once he read all of the submissions.

Going back on this _Lovino Vargas_, a third generation immigrant, the only noteworthy characteristic of the student was that he was always on the list of students who are failing. The blond always wondered if this was out of spite; Arthur looked at the student's record and his grade were excellent: he got A's and sometimes B's except for his subject. As an instructor, it was both insulting and depressing.

It could mean that he was not adept enough at being a teacher.

It wounds his pride as a teacher.

Sometimes if Arthur does (subtly) _implicate his, Lovino's, degenerate grade_, the lad would be able to pull off an excellent work (for instance acing the tests or handing in thought provoking essays).

Anyhow, he would be happy if it will be the last day of class; he was eager to return to London for the holidays.

By the time that his awaited day arrived, it was impossible to leave the US because of his workload. More than half of the class failed his previous exam. Bloody hell! He even lowered the level of difficulty but his class somehow, miraculously, failed. He would have to settle with Skype to talk to his parents during Christmas or some messaging application.

_Their heads were already in the clouds…_

Anyhow, Arthur was inwardly happy that Lovino was not part of the failing half of the class. In fact, the young Italian was part of the top 10 who passed which was a rare feat, considering his past record with his subject.

"Hey, uh, sir… whatever. Anyway… my grandfather said that, maybe, you want to come over for Christmas."

The teacher was slightly speechless; unsure at how to respond, he gave a weak nod.

"He said that he wants to thank you for, you know. Just come over if you want to okay?"

This was certainly a very awkward conversation in Arthur's perspective. If Lovino was good with written communication, he the complete opposite when it comes to verbally expressing himself. The student was very roundabout with his manner of speaking.

"I would love to… Um, where do you live?"

Arthur was confused why the student before him gave him a similar confused expression. He saw how Lovino knit his brows together and his unique hazel eyes, which he often gaze into. During those times, something always flutters in his stomach.

"Damn it! Never mind. _You seriously fucking __**forgot**__ about me. _**Unbelievable! You're so unbelievable Arthur.**"

**.**

**.**

**.**

His eyes were in disbelief as he saw the gravestone;

_Herein rests Lovino Romano Vargas. You are always loved and will forever be remembered._

Arthur's vision began to blur as tears fell from his eyes. He could not believe himself for forgetting who **LOVINO VARGAS **was. Ah!

It's been a three years since his boyfriend died.

He didn't have any student named Lovino; Lovino was someone he met back in college. At first, he was just a stranger from the engineering department he encountered by chance. Then they became acquaintances, friends and lovers (_for a short time_). There was a miniscule probability that they have met within the huge campus; their buildings were at the opposite ends and they were headed to different paths once they left the four walls of the learning institution. However during their freshman year's university-wide acquaintance party they met.

By then, they only knew each other by face. Arthur completely forgot the encounter; had it not been a semester later wherein they happened to be classmates with a liberal arts subject. For half of that semester, they barely interacted. It wasn't until when they were paired off to work for the final paper that they actually began to talk more and in turn, hanged out more.

He would often correct Lovino at how his English was, to be honest, horrendous. He wondered how the brunet passed high school. He could speak the language well, a bit accented, not that he could actually point it out since he too spoke in accented tone.

"Yeah, yeah… whatever bastard! You're so _**good**_ with writing."

Arthur was often wounded at the callous remarks of Lovino. It took him a long time to adjust with the very _crude manner_ of Lovino's speaking when they were outside of the classroom. At some point, he disregarded the demeaning words of Lovino and without any hesitation he would verbally fight back.

At the present moment, the now high school teacher had a bitter smile.

"Ha, you're one cunning _wanker…_ I can't believe that _I love you._" The green-eyed teacher murmured to the gravestone. His tears still continued to fall down his cheeks. "_Even now, I still damn do!_"

**.**

**.**

**.**

By sophomore year, they were more like _**friends**__._ Sometimes, they agreed to have lunch or just meet at the mall and watch movies or buy some things together. The most awkward thing they did together was to buy clothes. Arthur was shocked at how Lovino shells out money for designer clothes. The Briton just realized then that his Italian friend always dressed impeccably. Arthur would often admonish his friend for the extravagant spending.

"Shut up bastard. I have the money to buy these so I buy them besides," Lovino paused and look at Arthur from head to foot. "Clothes are also a reflection of one's character."

"What's that supposed to mean, you wanker!"

Arthur may not buy from boutiques but he made sure that he looked presentable enough. However his dress code, apparently, didn't pass Lovino's standards. At one point, Arthur was given several shirts, pants and some winter clothes.

"This is not damn pity if that's what you're thinking. I just don't want some random stranger misusing these clothes. At least with you, I know that, I know that you'll take them with care."

If Lovino was very passionate about his clothes, then Arthur was passionate about books. When Lovino visited over his place, the Italian was slightly surprised at how his tiny living room was packed with several books.

"Wow, this looks like my grandpa's study. His collection is mostly military books and medical books."

Sometimes, Lovino stays over at Arthur's cramped place. When most of the Brit's family returned to UK, he decided to stay and move to a smaller apartment. It's been 7 years since he lived with himself. His parents still supported him: they paid the rent and bills but Arthur worked his off to get by with his day to day expenses and his passion for acquiring books. Arthur was often embarrassed at the difference of their homes. Lovino was obviously well-off; the Italian's bedroom was bigger than the flat he was staying at.

His friend's familial affairs were none of Arthur's business; he didn't brother probe about why Lovino was the only family member when he visits over. However out of the blue, the brunet was screaming at him.

It was a week before the start of junior year. Both students were whiling away time inside the Vargas home. Lovino offered the Brit a wine glass to which Arthur gladly took. After one glass, he decided to stop. Instead he busied himself with finishing a book on the Gaelic Wars that was lying on the floor. Halfway through the book, Lovino had an outburst that shocked Arthur.

"How do you expect me to love myself when my own parents rejected me? Tell me how bastard!"

Without second thoughts, Arthur closed the book and rushed to his friend who was in tears. It was such a distressful situation for Arthur. The usually headstrong friend of his was now crying; he gently stroked the back of Lovino.

"I hate… hate myself so much."

Lovino was already in his third bottle of wine. To Arthur's horror, there were several empty liquor bottles underneath the brunet's bed: there were bottles of tequila, vodka... and some expensive liquor.

"Fuck."

From the slurs and hand gestures, Arthur was able to deduce that the reason why Lovino was currently living with grandfather. It was because his parents didn't want him. He never the exact details but from the bits and pieces, he could glean, it was a very complicated relationship. For the most part, Lovino was also speaking in Italian and Arthur only knew basic conversations of the language.

The blond may not be a smooth talker when it comes to _emotional matters_. Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and spoke,

"_That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect_

_For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;_

_So thou are good, slander doth but approve_

_Thy worth the greater, being wooed of time;_"

"Wh-what the fuck did you say bastard?"

"What the fuck did you just say bastard?"

Arthur watched at how his friend's tear stained face was slowly smiling.

"It is one of Shakespeare's sonnets."

"What does it mean?"

"Oh, well… The poet is saying to the subject that a person should not blame one's self for the flaws because… _good people will always be targeted and it just proves their worth…_ It's something like that."

"This is a first. I've never seen you unsure of something."

"Oh just shut it. I'm human too; I commit errors."

For the rest of the night, Arthur was just happy that the mood of his friend lightened. Seeing this side of Lovino slightly troubled him because it hurt to see his friend in such emotional turmoil. Somehow that particular moment was a turning point in their relationship. Lovino became more open to Arthur and to reciprocate the trust, Arthur also talked about some of his problems.

Time passed and they enjoyed the remaining years of their school life. It was something spontaneous when the two of them became lovers. Without any alcohol or drugs (yes, occasionally, Lovino coaxed Arthur to do some _recreational activities _which often resulted to deep kisses), they kissed and their limbs tangled on Arthur's bed.

Without any words of confirmation, the following day, they were officially a couple though nothing much changed in their relationship. The two didn't feel the need to actually put a label in their relationship. If Arthur were to put a name he could not also put one but he can give a description: _they were definitely intimate with one another_.

It was more difficult to hang out with Arthur working on his thesis and other graduation requirements. Lovino too, was busier with his academics. However, they spend Friday nights and weekends in either one's houses. Liquor was gone inside Lovino's room; instead the aroma of tea and coffee would waft.

Just weeks before Arthur's graduation, Lovino left a missed call (with no voicemail message) and an urgent message. The Brit rushed to the Lovino's favorite spot in the campus: the rooftop of the arts and sciences building. Since the university had a no smoking policy, it was at that place were his boyfriend would take out a pack of smokes and light a cigarette. Sometimes, he would join because he was not a prude man who will deny himself the pleasure of smoking.

By the time Arthur reached the rooftop, he was breathless and he was pale. His panicked as he saw Lovino's feet which were at the edge. His heart stopped its rhythmical beating. In one miniscule movement, Lovino would fall.

"Lovino… what are you doing?"

"Damn it, damn it bastard… I'm, sorry. I'm sorry for getting you involved with me. I'm so damn sorry."

When his heart returned to its rhythmical beating and his legs propelled by adrenaline, rushing to where Lovino was, his boyfriend and best friend was lying on the concrete ground, five floors down.

Arthur screamed in anguish. Arthur's scream reflected his hatred. Hatred to Lovino for giving up, hatred for himself for being not strong enough to protect the one he loves and hatred for the world for letting him meet Lovino.

He noticed that the brunet was in some turmoil days ago but he kept his silence. He wanted to ask, to reach out but he didn't.

That will be one of his greatest regrets in life;

**.**

**.**

**.**

"A-Arthur?"

"Feliciano?"

"H-hi. How are you?"

"I'm doing fine…"

During Lovino's funeral, Arthur was able to meet the entirety of the Vargas family. Mrs. Vargas was crying so much, while the grandfather remained stoic but his eyes were on the brink of tears. The younger brother and Mr. Vargas were trying his best to console the weeping mother. Feliciano, the younger brother's name, approached Arthur and thanked the Brit for being with his brother.

_You see, I was happy that Fratello, big brother, finally started talking again to me. I think that was a year ago. I always, always sent him messages, e-mails but he never replies. Then one day, he started replying. He also calls me and then he always talks about you, Arthur. Thank you so much. _

Arthur's heart was weak and it wavered under the loss of his lover and best friend. He distanced himself to the Vargas family; they didn't know that he was the deceased's boyfriend anyway. However the Brit suspected that Feliciano knew or has inkling about his and Lovino's relationship.

"My father could not visit Fratello's grave until this year. My mother, she drowned herself with work. However Grandpa took Fratello's death the hardest. He returned to Italy and sold all of his property here."

"Then…"

"_Why is the grave still here?_ Because, because, everyone felt guilty in Fratello's death. Back when we were still children, my parents were trying to make ends meet and Fratello was very sickly. So Grandpa offered to take Lovino under his roof… His disease worsened when he entered college. The doctors said it was some genetic mutation that causes his brain to degenerate faster than the normal…" A short self-depreciating quiet laughter came from Feliciano's mouth before he continued. "Grandpa tried calling everyone he knew to let Fratello be part of any experimental trial but Fratello didn't want to take any medicine… It's very like him; fighting head on. My parents also felt guilty being unable to send financial support."

"I'm sorry for rambling. It was nice seeing you again Arthur. I better get going."

_Ah._

Arthur watched the leaving figure of the younger brother of his deceased lover. Arthur already figured for the most part why Lovino was antagonistic towards his familial relations but it hurt him when Lovino didn't speak that he was suffering from an illness. Now, it seemed so unfair. It feels like he was robbed of happiness right from the beginning.

"_No longer mourn for me when I am dead_

_Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell_

_Give warning to the word that I am fled_

_From this vile world with vildest worms to dwell_

_Nay, if you read this line, remember not _

_The hand that writ it, for I love you so_

_That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,_

_If thinking on me then should make you woe._

_O if, I say, you look upon this verse_

_When I perhaps compounded am with clay,_

_Do not so much as my poor name rehearse_

_But let your love even with my life decay,_

_Lest the wise world should look into your moan_

_And mock you with me after I am gone."_

"Lovino… you really are a cunning wanker..." Arthur smiled bitterly as he took the envelope which was placed near the bouquet. "… asking your younger brother to do something like this."

Arthur cried silently. Every day, Feliciano would come here bringing the same bouquet, with the same message in the same white envelope, hoping that he would pass by? Or could it be that this was Lovino's desperate attempt to cling on to life (_fight_) before he would fully succumb to his illness? If only the dead spoke tales, then Arthur's questions (_ache_) could be answered (_soothe_).

However, if Lovino would, in spirit, visit him again, how would he feel? What would he even ask?

Arthur smiled and wiped away his tears. Maybe that hallucination of his was Lovino's message from beyond the grave. A bit creepy but…

It definitely suits Lovino's awkwardness when it comes to communicating what he wanted.

_Maybe there really is hope in hopelessness_.

**END.**

**A/N:** Title courtesy of Bastille's song of the same name. I think that the title is very apt with Arthur's situation.

Shakespeare's sonnets that were inserted here are 70, 71 and 87.

EXPLANATIONS:

Explanation of the first part: that was Lovino's experience in university. He considers Arthur as his English _teacher_ when it came to grammatical stuff.

Now for the second part (_the dream of Arthur_): the Lovino he saw there was a reflection of his unconscious turmoil. He felt guilty about the **real Lovino's **death, so he imposed on himself that he was not deserving of happiness.

So, why did Lovino decided to quote one from Shakespeare's sonnets? Because Arthur's bookworm attitude rubbed off to him. :D

The change of moods of Lovino was due to his brain degeneration (_dementia_).

So, did Lovino really haunt Arthur? That's open to interpretation!

I hope you enjoyed reading this.

:)

Love, zelge-89


End file.
